The scanner shows the main street through the center of a rural American town: two-story brick storefronts for a drugstore, hardware store, even a post office.  There's a little bit of snow piled here and there, though the streets and sidewalks look dry, and the sun is beaming down out of a brilliant blue sky.  The silhouette of a water tower can be seen looming up behind the buildings.

There is a little foot traffic on the sidewalk, and an occasional car passing by.  The TARDIS seems to have parked itself discreetly in an alley between storefronts.

Outlooking up with interest at the scanner, Smoke Alarm grinned widely, her dark eyes beaming. This town was yawny and clean and the walls were blank and there were only two stories, but it outlooked lots like the streets around Paradise Towers. Built in the late 21st century, its architectural style hearkened back to the late 20th – right about now, in fact, just missing the Eighties. Smoke Alarm had been born in the 25th, but that was where she'd been raised. She eyespied familiar signs and things she'd eyespied in pictures and viddies. But what was all that white fluff piled about? Mayhaps it had come out of an old couch. Mayhaps there would be other interesting scrap. After Arsuran, New Vegas, and Silurian Earth, she was now the closest she'd been to her own time since falling through the big blue bubble. It was almost home-sweet-home.

All it needed was Kangs running riot over everything and scrawling on those blank walls.

'Steady-ready-go!' she cheered, running for the talkiphone box doors.

Once he put on the holographic disguise, Sereth visibly shuddered. To hide himself, to obscure who he really was? It was horrible. Simply... horrible. He had his pride - really, maybe he had too much of it. But to disguise himself, not only disguise himself at all, but as such a weak, powerless race? That was truly horrifying.

But if Traveller thought he'd leave behind his ancestral sword, problems it may cause or not, she had another think coming. And when he left the TARDIS, and felt it was cold... damn. He may -look- human, but he was still reptilian - he felt the cold, though probably not as much as some of the truly reptilian races, like the Silurians for example.

As Sereth's holo-projector activates, a shimmer of static passes over him.  His build does not alter, but his features do: they resolve into those of a striking, dark-skinned human male with a shaven scalp.  However, the essential structure of his commanding features remains the same, and he remains recognizably Sereth to the others.

Meanwhile, Sereth's robes and symbols of office morph and shift, until he appears to be wearing a dark, full-length double-breasted overcoat, over a thousand-dollar three-piece Armani suit with subtle, refined pinstriping.  His badge of office appears as a brushed silver lapel pin -- its abstract design is unremarkable in this form.

It is weird how Sereth's human disguise still looks like Sereth. The way that he still has the same height and other general features probably plays a role in that.

"That is a nice suit." Stanley tries his best not to sound envious. He knows, because he has seen the device activate, that it is just a hologram, but for the random person on the street it looks real. Also really expensive.

Stanley steps out of the Tardis and looks around. He can't help but think that it is not as impressive as some of the previous destinations. It is only a small jump back in time and they are still on Earth, so it is no wonder that everything looks normal and familiar. "Nothing out of the ordinary, as far as I can tell."

As Stanley stops and thinks about it, he realizes that he's already in this time -- his younger self is possibly sitting in a classroom, halfway around the world.  It's the first time he has ever doubled up on his own time stream like that, and even though the amount of actual influence he's having on his own past at the moment is negligible, he does feel momentarily light-headed.  But it passes, to be replaced by his awareness that the Montana morning is remarkably crisp and cold.  To be expected for late November, he supposes.

Smoke Alarm turned and started at Sereth's sudden cosplay. He'd lost the egghead, the green, the scales, but the shape of his face and the eyes and the Sereth behind them were all there still. She guessed he wasn't happy about cosplaying as a hooman, but it seemed important. 'It's high fabshion.' she agreed with Stanley.

Smoke Alarm, meanwhile, was in her usual grungy Blue Kang fabshion: old runners with mismatched socks (blue and black); black pants with a quiver tied to her right thigh with a blue rag; and an old stained black shirt with a blue bib tied over the front. The letters GA had been peeled off, but might be discerned on close inspection – it was an old school-sports netball bib. All of it was shabby, stained, frayed, patched, and torn. Another scrap of blue fabric was tied around her left arm. The metallic blue collar still sat around her neck, as did the necklace of dog fangs. A black leather belt (well, it was used as a belt) around her waist her arrowgun and ropegun and other things. Her pack-back held her things, and it clinked and rattled.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:53, Mon 23 Mar 2015.

"Sereth, mere appearance can't suppress your true magnificence. Now Stan, I doubt we'll run into anything which will mess with history, but please let's try to not make too much of a ruckus. Also, Sereth, the local law doesn't take too kindly to the display of large bladed weapons, and unfortunately will not recognize your proper authority. I'm downloading a historical report to your phone. Smoke, there are a lot of wide open plains here, watch yourself." Trav has her pistols recolored to a garish orange and green, looking for all the world like nerf guns. The front nozzles are closed off, and would look to any c20th inspection like a pair of kids toys.

Trav is keeping it simple today, her fedora now a simple black cap:



She's wearing galoshes, one of Boobie's old long scarfs, and snug mittens. "Ah, snow."  She gets together some and makes a snowball. "Hey Smoke, ever been in a snowball fight?"  She playfully tosses a snowball at the kang!

"My first thought is to find the hospital where Phillipe was born. Stan, that means research, right? We're going to need your expertise."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:01, Mon 23 Mar 2015.

His eyes flickered towards the Traveller, and, due to the magic of holographic projector, she now realises that when he gives that flicker of his eyes, it's like an eyebrow raising.

"Is this not why you insisted on having this large coat be part of the disguise? To hide underneath it?" He grunts though; he really hated having to hide behind this facade. A Draconian noble was a Draconian noble; no matter where, or when, he travelled.

Trav beams. "My dear and wise friend - it is not to protect you from them - it is to protect them from you! They're not ready for you yet, in so many ways. But soon, soon. I'll bring you to meet President Khebares, right after the Draconian first contact is made. Humanians and Draconians will be magnificient partners and allies. Together you'll accomplish so many great things! But first, Humanians need to grow up and get their feet first, so as to be worthy to walk with you."

A slow shake of his head.

"I, perhaps, know a bit more about early history between Draconia and Humanity. And if you are against meddling with history, you must let history take it's course there too - and there are many years of war; before years of an uneasy peace between our two empires. If I had been there then; with my beliefs on war now? That could all change; and who knows what other changes that might cause?"

"Sereth, I never said it would be easy - of course there's going to be trouble. Just let's not let our presence here get in the way of what's supposed to happen naturally. Time is like jello, its moves around. Let's give the people up in the future the option of making their decisions free of our meddling. We're here to protect their freedom to make their decisions. If they choose war, that's on them. Who knows? They may choose differently. There's a lot of the universe that's not fixed points in time." She dusts her hat off. "Now, let's find Phillipe, or at least how he starts."

Trav smirks as they walk through the snow. "As for some of that history? I was there when Boobie was made a Draconian noble. I'm not entirely unfamiliar with that period of Draconian-Earth history myself, although I wasn't as deeply enmeshed as Boobie was."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:25, Mon 23 Mar 2015.

Show-and-telled the warning sign by Traveller, Smoke Alarm outlooked all around, 'waring dogs and birds and the wide open blue sky. She didn't like the outlooks of the big bugs on wheels either. So she wasn't outlooking when...



'Eee! Icehot! Icehot!' Smoke Alarm squealed, jumping up and down as the snow splattered down inside her shirt, icehot-cold against her skin. It wasn't fluff at all! It was the stuff Kangs chipped out of old freezers to get at food and make drink-water. Icehot because it could burn if you touched the wrong part or for too long or if you put your tongue to it and got stuck. Vengeful, she ran to the nearest snow-pile, scooped some up dirty snow and hurled it back! 'Icehot!'

"Sure, I can probably convince the hospital staff to give me access to Phillipe's information. The problem is that I don't know how many hospitals there are around here and without more information I don't know how to narrow it down. Hopefully his parents chose the one nearest to where we are now." Stanley turns around and approaches one of the people walking on the pavement. "Excuse me, can you tell me where the nearest hospital is? I am supposed to meet a friend there, his wife is about to have a baby, but I am not familiar here."

The middle-aged woman he stops nods to Stanley.  "You probably want Livingston Memorial.  I'm guessing you took the wrong exit off the interstate?"  Without waiting for his response, she points down the street as it curves off to the south.  "Just follow Main down another couple of miles to where it hits I-90 again, and make sure you're in the far right lane, or you'll have to swing round again."

OOC: Assuming that you all eventually follow the directions as discussed, Stanley can narrate talking to admin personnel at the hospital -- it's a relatively small local hospital; Livingston is not a big town -- and trying to get at relevant records.

I think the roll would be Presence + Medicine + Voice of Authority.  It's a bit of a stretch to use that instead of Convince, but I think it would represent his knowledge of the associated bureaucracy fairly.

However, you need not let this post disrupt the snowball fight. :)

OOC: I just dare someone to throw a snowball at Sereth. Go on, I dare ya.

Splat! A snowball exploded over Sereth. It was Smoke Alarm, of course. Who else would double-dare?

Sereth... shivered, as he wiped the snow off his face.

"Wasn't there a job we needed to do here? Something a touch more important than such childish games as throwing pieces of cold at each other?" Even now he was dignified. And well, perhaps, from Traveller's and Smoke's point of view, a tiny bit boring.

On the bright side, the holo-disguise seems to have passed its first field test with flying colors.  Smoke Alarm did notice a slight ripple passing over Sereth from head to toe (like you got when somebody thumped a picturespout) but the only passerby on the street who seemed to notice merely blinked, rubbed his eyes, shrugged, and walked on.

SPLAT

Trav, of course, would no doubt pay for that later. "Oh, come on, Sereth, show us Draconian snow ball skills!" Trav is tittering madly.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 04:38, Tue 24 Mar 2015.

Trav holds up a finger. "Hold on. We need wheels." She runs back to the TARDIS quickly

OOC: Spending a second TARDIS story point for resourceful pockets. If I need to, I will also spend one of my own because we need to be cool, damn it. I did this back in RIFTS.

Trav pulls up in her 1970 Red Ford Mustang 4 Seater Convertible.


"If we're gonna ride, we gotta ride in style. Red Mustangs are cool."

Trav snaps her hat, they're now shades.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:40, Tue 24 Mar 2015.

'Cool like snow? wondered Smoke Alarm, who couldn't show-and-tell if a red mustang that ran along on wheels like a toy was meant to be cool or not. It wasn't all icehot like Dev's sky-bike. It didn't outlook like it could fly very far or very high at all. It didn't outlook sound-and-safe; at least a hover-car would go over bumps and holes and people sleeping on the road. 'How high does it fly?'

And where are we outgoing anyhow??'


OOC: Exposition time!
This message was last edited by the player at 12:02, Tue 24 Mar 2015.

"It doesn't fly, baby, at least not like that. Make sure that belt is on. To the hospital, so Stan can see where Warlock began." She loads them up. It occurs to her that she hasn't driven since RIFTS Earth.

In unalloyed joy, once in the driver's seat, Trav spins a doughnut and then tears down I-90 towards the hospital.

(OOC: No, Trav does not drive a Subaru.)
This message was last edited by the player at 14:23, Tue 24 Mar 2015.